CONTRACT BRIDE'S BABY

Chapter 1: The Surprising Idea

Theme: A pact neither of them fully understands binds two strangers together, causing trust and survival to clash.

"You think money solves everything?" Hannah looked at the man across the little café counter, her green eyes sparkling with rage, her voice quivering.

Without flinching, Jonah Augustin's piercing blue eyes met hers. "In my world, it usually does."

Hannah's hands trembled a little when she banged the coffee pot onto the counter. "Not in mine, that is, Mr. Augustin, you're wasting your time. You have nothing to offer me.”

"Don't make a snap decision," Jonah warned in a deep, firm voice. A sleek black card was put onto the counter by him. "That’s the address. Come tonight at precisely eight o'clock. I'll go over everything.”

Hannah’s lips parted in surprise. "You’re unbelievable."

Jonah’s mouth twisted into the faintest trace of a smile. "I get that a lot."

She grabbed the card and threw it in the garbage after crumpling it in her hand. "I’m not interested."

Jonah looked from her to the trash can and back again. "You will be." Then, with his expensive shoes clicking on the ceramic floor, he turned and left.

Unaware that she had been holding her breath, Hannah released it. "Arrogant jerk," she whispered to herself.

As the afternoon wore on, the café gradually dwindled. With her mind racing, Hannah refilled the sugar jars and wiped off the tables. What could Jonah Augustin, for example, possibly want with her? She was not a part of his universe. She had no desire to join.

"Hannah!" Her boss, Carla, called from the rear. "We’re closing early today. Something about the pipes. You can head home."

"Thanks, Carla," Hannah murmured, hanging up her apron. She took her worn-out suitcase and headed outside into the crisp fall air. She felt like a stranger gazing in on the bustling streets of New York.

Her modest flat wasn’t far. As she walked, Jonah’s words echoed in her thoughts. She told herself she didn’t care, but curiosity gnawed at her. What did he have to offer? Why her? People like Jonah didn’t notice people like her.

When she reached her building, she observed a man in a suit resting against the wall near the door. Her steps faltered.

"Miss Johnson," the man answered, straightening. "I’m Mr. Augustin’s driver. I'm reminding you of your meeting tonight, per his request.

She yelled, "Are you kidding me?" "Did he send you to stalk me?"

The driver's expression remained unchanged. "Mr. Augustin has a lot on his plate. All he wants is for you to remember.

She stated, "Tell your boss he’s wasting his time," as she pushed by him and entered the premises. Her chest thumped with her heartbeat. This wasn't typical. It wasn't safe.

Hannah was pacing her tiny living room at 7:30 p.m. She had made an effort to put Jonah out of her thoughts, but it was impossible. His self-assurance and sharp eyes made her uneasy.

"Don’t do it," she said in a low voice. "Don’t fall for whatever trap he’s setting."

What if, however, he had a valid reason? What if it would cost her more than she thought to say no?

She was searching through the trash about 7:50 p.m. Staring at the address, she straightened out the crumpled card. She would never be able to afford the upscale location.

She reassured herself, "I'm just going to listen to him." "That’s all."

The location was even more terrifying than she had anticipated. Soft classical music played in the background as the room was illuminated by crystal lights that created a beautiful glow. Each table had fresh flowers and a white linen covering it. Wearing an outdated pair of boots and a basic black dress, she felt completely out of place.

"Miss Johnson?" A hostess emerged with a courteous but aloof look. "You are anticipated by Mr. Augustin. Please, this way."

With her stomach in knots, Hannah followed. With a glass of red wine in his hand, Jonah sat at a quiet table in the corner. His expression was blank as she came closer and he looked up.

He answered, "You came," and got up to remove her chair.

"Don’t read too much into it," she replied as she sat down. "I’m just here to hear what you have to say."

Jonah's mouth quirked, as if he wanted to grin. "Fair enough."

A waitress showed up, offering options and pouring water. Jonah beckoned him away. "Just bring the chef’s special."

Hannah crossed her arms and remarked, "I didn't say I'd stay for dinner."

Jonah's voice was firm as he said, "You'll want to hear this over a meal." "It’s not a small matter."

She scowled but remained silent. Jonah leaned forward and fixed her with his blue eyes as the silence drew on. "I need a wife."

Hannah's eyes blinked. "Excuse me?"

"A wife," he said again. It's just business. On paper, a marriage. Nothing more.

She stood up and yelled, "You're insane." "I’m not doing this."

"Sit down, Hannah," Jonah uttered sharply. "You need to hear me out."

She stopped, then gently sat back down. "You’ve got five minutes."

"I’m acquiring a company," Jonah remarked. "The agreement hinges on my image. Investors want security, and a wife gives that. You’re perfect because you have no ties to my world."

"This is crazy," she said. "You can’t just buy a wife."

"I’m not buying you," Jonah said. "I’m offering you a chance. You’ll be well rewarded. Sufficient to transform your life.

"I don’t need your money," she said, but her tone was unconfident.

Jonah observed her from a distance. "Hannah, you're battling. I am able to assist you. And all I ask is that you contribute."

She questioned, "And what happens when it’s over?" "You throw me out like yesterday’s trash?"

"No," Jonah said quietly. "You’ll walk away with enough to start fresh."

Hannah stared at him, her mind running. She hated the thought, but the money… it could solve so many problems.

"Why me?" she asked finally. "Why not some rich woman from your world?"

Jonah’s look hardened. "Because I don’t trust anyone from my world. They’re all after something."

"And you think I’m not?"

"No," he said, his voice soft. "I think you’re different."

Her breath caught. She didn’t know what to say. Before she could speak, a man approached the table. He was tall, with slicked-back hair and an arrogant smirk.

"Jonah," the man continued, his voice heavy with derision. "Fancy seeing you here."

Jonah’s jaw constricted. "Mason."

Hannah’s eyes flashed between them. The stress was palpable.

"Who’s this?" Mason asked, maintaining eye contact with Hannah. "Your latest project?"

"Leave," Jonah said in a menacingly low voice.

Mason said, "Calm down," and raised his hands. "I’m just saying hi."

Hannah shifted uneasily as she felt the weight of Mason's stare. "I should go."

"No," Jonah firmly stated. "Stay."

"Yes, stay," Mason grinned and said. "This should be interesting."

Jonah's posture was tight as he stood. "If you don’t leave, Mason, I will make you."

Mason chuckled. "Aren't we touchy? Fine. I’ll go. But we’ll talk soon, brother."

As Mason walked away, Hannah looked to Jonah. "Brother?"

Jonah’s face darkened. "Half-brother. And a problem I’ll deal with later."

Hannah’s discomfort grew. She’d entered into a world considerably more sophisticated than she’d thought.

Jonah said, "Consider my offer," in a more composed tone. "But don’t take too long."

As Hannah left the restaurant, her brain raced with questions. She felt like she’d stepped into a storm she couldn’t run.

A shadow moved behind Hannah as soon as she stepped onto the dim path. Her heart pounding, she turned to find the street deserted.

"Just nerves," she muttered while gripping her bag.

However, the sense of being watched intensified as she began to move.